


It’s Never Calm After The Storm

by Strength_in_pain



Category: In the Heart of the Sea (2015), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Gen, Life at Sea, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Slash, No Smut, Non-Consensual Spanking, Sailing, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:29:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strength_in_pain/pseuds/Strength_in_pain
Summary: “What the hell were you thinking!?” He shook him soundly. “You know better than to climb into the crows nest. And I told you to stay where you were, and you didn’t listen! That’s called disobeying a direct order, boy! Now look what you’ve done!”ORI re-watched In The Heart of The Sea and couldn’t help but write a discipline fic.
Relationships: Thomas Nickerson & Owen Chase
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! 😄
> 
> PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ ABOUT CORPORAL PUNISHMENT. 
> 
> So I was rewatching this movie and the character dynamic between Owen Chase and Thomas Nickerson was completely like a father son relationship in my mind, so I felt the need to write this. Plus, I know a lot of friends that enjoy stories with a large focus on spanking. So I created this little monster. 
> 
> Reminder, this is set in the 1600-1700s, and it’s aboard a ship where discipline for crew members was common. 
> 
> Okay! Enjoy!

Why Thomas Nickerson joined the crew of the Essex was the same reason as why many of his Nantucket friends joined, to find glory in whale hunting. He would never forget when he spotted the whale pins fastened around his elders necks the very first day he boarded the ship. 

_I shall have twelve of those one day._

And he wanted twelve, but the thing Thomas did not take into consideration was just how difficult whale hunting would be. He was led to believe a more fairytale verse of life at sea. But Thomas found out during the first three hours that the reality of being a sailor was far more difficult. Already he had to deal with rough seas, overwhelming fears, and very strict discipline, mainly from the first-mate, Owen Chase. 

Mr. Chase was a nice guy in town, but on the Essex, he took another persona. One that was stern and very demanding. 

As an orphan, Thomas grew up with his grandparents and he never had a proper male authority figure until he met Mr. Chase. However, Thomas was not alone in this revaluation. His best mate Barzillai Ray, whom he called Grubs, had also lost both his parents. Henry Coffin and Charles Ramsdell had each lost a father as well so at least Thomas wasn’t alone when it came to his fear of the first-mate’s strictness. 

Already Barzillai was caned on the back of his shoulders by Mr. Chase for not following orders. Truthfully, it had been an honest mistake. He had never been on a whale voyage before, and he did not know how to follow through with the order. Thomas was the same way. He had never been on a whale voyage before either. As a matter of fact, he had never been on any voyage. He was only fourteen. The only way he was able to get on this one, was as a cabin boy. That was the lowest position he could get without being an indentured slave. 

Nevertheless, Mr. Chase didn’t seem to care that Grubs was new to this, or a greenhorn, as he called it. He whacked Grubs’ back three times mercilessly with the cane. It was enough to shake every sailor to their core including Thomas. 

“The next sailor that can’t obey an order will stain this stick with his blood!” Mr. Chase shouted, in his insanely deep voice. He waved the rattan stick around at everyone, cause them all to finch before turning back quietly towards their tasks. 

Thomas watched miserably as his friend was picked up and taken below deck by some other members of the crew. While he was sweeping, he vaguely heard the Captain, Mr. George Pollard say, “He’s just a boy” to Mr. Chase. 

“A boy who now respects me, Captain.” Was Mr. Chase’s gruff reply. 

But Thomas didn’t have respect for Mr. Chase. He had anger and fear, but not respect. But that was the life of a seaman. The first mate was in charge of discipline, of keeping the crew in line. They were lucky Mr. Chase didn’t use a whip, or a birch, Thomas supposed. But he still didn’t like the negative tension that surrounded the ship that day. 

Since then, however, the crew relaxed and ate a sloppy meal below deck. Though some members of the crew had complains to be made about the meal. 

“We’re give this slop on the first day? Cheap bastards, where’s the meat?” 

It was sea sickness that bothered Thomas next. The constant rocking motion along with the smell of food was making him ill. 

When Mr. Chase came below, the entire crew stood at attention and stopped speaking. 

He began dividing the crew into teams. “Mr. Chanel?”

“Sir?” A man behind Thomas spoke. 

“Captain’s harpoona.”

“Mr. Lawrence, you’ll be mine.”

“Aye sir.”

“Mr. Peterson, your with the second mate.”

“Aye sir.” Peterson said with a big grin and some of the crew clapped him on the back as congratulations. 

“They’ll be six men on a boat. We’ll divide it equally tomorrow at six bells.”

“We’re not even East of Halifax sir.”

Mr. Chase stopped walking away and turned to face the man that dare speak up. 

“What’s your name?”

That’s exactly what he asked Thomas the first time he met him. 

Thomas had the misfortune of spilling a sack of food into the ocean the very moment Mr. Chase was boarding the ship.

“Name!” He barked in the most petrifying voice the boy had ever heard. 

“Thomas. N-Nickerson, s-sir.”

Mr. Chase hopped on board and flung an empty sack at him, which sent the boy stumbling back a few steps. The rest of the crew had stopped chatting and watched uneasily.

“Do you have any idea what accompany accounts for boy? They make damn sure that ships like the Essex here are under provision. We are now another sack short, and you a dollar fifty poorer to be subtracted from your lay.”

“Aye, sir.”

Nickerson was snapped back to the current moment the when a strong wave gave the ship a sharp jolt, and he was swaying around, feeling the unpleasant feeling of his lunch trying to rise in this throat. 

“Coffin. Henry Coffin.” The boy who questioned the Captain’s authority said with ease. 

“He’s the captain’s cousin.” One of the crew members pointed out, explaining his calm demeanor. 

“Well well, Mr. Coffin. You think a whale knows if it’s East of Halifax?” 

Henry bowed his head in shame, while the rest of the crew chuckled. 

“I don’t know who all you are,” Mr. Chase said, hands on his hips. “How you got here. Some of you probably have families to hide and you’re on the run. That’s fine. I don’t give a damn. But in return you exist for one thing and one thing only and that’s Whale Oil.”

The ship lurched, and Thomas gagged, feeling so nauseous he swore he could puke right there in front of everyone. But he choked it back, trying desperately to remain strong. 

“I intend to fill two hundred barrels and be home as soon as possible. And in the event there are no whales, we will practice every maneuver possible for when we come in contact with one. Is that understood?”

“Aye sir.” The entire crew responded, and Henry dejectedly mumbled a sir, without looking up from his view at his shoes. Before Thomas could respond with an ‘aye sir’ he fell against the bench, desperately needing to sit down. 

“Greenhorn.” 

Thomas knew that the first mate was talking to him. A greenhorn is an term for new or inexperienced person, and that was definitely Thomas. When he looked up, he saw Mr. Chase’s eyes were locked on him, and that fear was enough to make him want to puke right there. “On deck.”

Oh God. What did he do? Was it because he sat down? Thomas’s heart pounded out of his chest. 

One of the crew members pulled Thomas to his feet. “Off you go.” He said, giving the boy a nice shove in the right direction. 

Stumbling to the deck, Thomas followed behind Mr. Chase. 

“Thomas Nickerson, right?” The man asked as they walked across the deck together. 

“Aye sir.”

“Some feel sick at first.” He said. Then, in a lightning flash, he grabbed Thomas by the waist and tossed him over the edge of the ship, still holding Thomas’s ankles, and refusing to actually drop the boy. Still, it was one of the most terrifying experience of Thomas’s life and he shrieked in fear. 

“Ahhh. Please let me up! Please, sir! Let me up.” 

Mr. Chase took mercy and pulled him up, only for Thomas to puke all over his feet. 

“Sir! I am so sorry.” Thomas spluttered feeling absolutely horrified. 

“Ah, it’s alright. At least you’ll have something to write home to your mother about.”

“My mother’s dead. So is my father. He passed away long before she.” Thomas explained as he grabbed the rags that we meant to clean the puke off the deck.

“Whales is your family now boy. For better or for worse.” Mr. Chase said, in a moment of surprise gentleness that Nickerson wasn’t sure he was capable of until now. “Worse mostly,” the man concluded and Thomas smiled.

“Swab the deck, kid.”

From that moment on, Thomas did have respect for his first-mate. Sure the man might be strict sometimes, but he cared about his crew and he knew what he was doing. Which was a little more than Nickerson could say for Captain Pollard.

A month later, Thomas rubbed his tired eyes, then quickly lowered his head back to the deck he needed to swab before he could crawl into the tiny cot that served as his bed. 

He rubbed his eyes once once then dipped the brush back into the bucket hoping to finish this job quickly. 

As Thomas scrubbed the last bit of grime off the deck, he carefully blew out the sputtering candle he had with him. He would have a few hours of rest before once again he would be expected to clean something. Most likely tomorrow morning he would have to clean the Captain’s chambers. 

He shivered in the cold night air. Without the candle’s meager light it seemed colder somehow. There was an icy wind blowing off the sea tonight, and Thomas was beyond ecstatic to get below deck where it was warm. Climbing past the stacked barrels, the young boy felt his way through the dark into the small back room that served as his quarters along with several of the other lads because he was so young and so new. Most of the young boys were grouped together in a special section, and the older men were in the other part of the cabin. The Captain had his own chambers of course, and the first-mate had his own. 

Thomas had been given a half of loaf of bread and some cheese for dinner but still his stomach grumbled painfully. 

Captain Pollard had pointed out many times the importance of rationing food. Though Thomas never complained like the other crew members, he agreed that they should be fed a bit more. Just enough so he didn’t have to go to sleep so hungry. But he would never express such a thing, not like his friend Charles. That mangy idiot thought it was a good idea to tell the captain about the food situation. A lot of good it did him. He got six cuts with the cane the next morning. Everyone was forced to watch which once again, struck terror through the crew. This time it was the Captain himself dishing out the discipline rather than Mr. Chase. No one dared complain about the food after that. 

Stretching out on his cot, Thomas pulled the thin blanket up over his shoulders and smiled as he got comfortable. Finally he could rest. Sleep was one of the best times of the day. 

Thomas startled awake when he felt his arm being shook. The second mate and Mr. Lawrence were standing over him. 

“Nickerson, what on earth are you doing, boy?” 

Thomas sat up in his cot and blinked. “I was sleepin’”

“Well it’s time to get up. Didn’t you hear me ring the bell?”

“Guess I must have slept through it. I’m sorry, sir. I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah, we’re all tired, boy. Get up and get to your post before your late.” Mr. Lawrence ordered. 

“Aye sir,” Thomas mumbled, not wanting to move from his comfy cot but knowing he had no choice. 

Grubs raised his face towards the sun, rejoicing in the feel of it’s heat and the wind whipping through his hair. One of the older crewmen that walked past them gave a stern order to practice the rigging. 

“Aye sir.” Both boys said as they moved towards the rigs where Mr. Lawrence was standing. 

“Hello boys, you ready to help or are you going to sunbath some more?” The older man teased. 

“Hey, I’ve been stuck below ship for three days, cut me a break.” Grubs said with a chuckle and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been on deck non-stop so don’t complain to me.”

The two gave one another playful shoves, waiting for Mr. Lawrence to scold them, but he didn’t. He was the most patient of all the men on the Essex. 

After a while, Mr. Lawrence was called to keep watch, so Thomas and Grubs were ordered to grab buckets of cold and warm water and wash the crew members clothes. They were then expected to clean Captain Pollard’s coat as well.

The boys began filling the buckets as they always did. It wasn’t until Henry Coffin came over that trouble started.

“Hello gentlemen, want to play a dice game?”

“We’re on duty, Coffin.” Thomas didn’t even look at him, he was busy filling the brown wooden buckets to the top, meanwhile Grubs took two of the buckets below deck in order to heat them. 

“Oh come on, Thomas. One game won’t hurt.”

“Can’t. Now allowed.”

“Says who? The Captain?”

“Yeah.” Thomas bent on his knees so Coffin leaned over his side to whisper in his ear. 

“Did you forget he’s my cousin? He’ll let us play a game if we want. He won’t care.”

Thomas turned his head. “You sure?”

“Definitely.” 

Coffin grabbed Thomas’ wrist and stopped him from reaching for the pile of dirty clothes. 

“One game. It’s called chicken. I bet you and Grubs can’t beat me at this one.” 

Owen Chase settled back in his chair and absentmindedly lit his cigar. The end flared to life and the scent of strong tobacco filled the cabin. He breathed in the smell and sighed heavily. He was running low on cigars - only a few dozen left in his private storage - hidden under the floorboards. He was going to need more soon, but he wasn’t going to be able to get any unless they stopped somewhere. But as it seemed, they weren’t stopping anytime soon. Not until they find a whale.

He restlessly pushed his blonde hair away from his face, and played with the necklaces wrapped around his neck. Soon he would have to go back on deck and help order the crew around. It was a Captain’s job, but Mr. Pollard spent most his days locked in his chambers too embarrassed to show his face. Especially after he led the crew directly into a storm. It doesn’t get more shameful than that for a Captain.

Before going on deck, Owen wanted to enjoy a few moments longer of quietness with his cigar but a loud shrill and shouting from above disrupted his plans.

Jumping from his chair, Mr. Chase threw open the cabin door and pulled himself onto the shuttering deck to see what all the commotion was about.

The crew was shouting about something and it didn’t take long for Chase to spot young Nickerson hanging off the crows nest at the very top of the mast. 

“Lord have mercy, how did he get up there?!” Chase shouted at the closet crew member, Mr. Matthews.

“Don’t know sir, but my guess is he climbed the main sail.”

“Why the hell would he do that? He knows how dangerous it is.” Chase growled.

Another crew member, Jonathan, timidly spoke up, “Well sir, we’ve been discussing how to get him down, but we’re not really sure how to go about it without putting him in mortal danger.”

“He’s already in mortal danger! If he falls he’s dead. Hurry up and pull the mainsail in.”

“If we do that, we’ll ruin the course we’re on.”

“I want him down! And I want him down now!” Mr. Chase screeched. “If we have to lose precious time, then we lose time. It’s better than losing a man.”

“Sir! He’s slipping.” Mr. Lawrence screamed, and Chase could see the boy was only holding on by one hand.

“Son of a -“ the first mate ran as fast as he could to the bottom of the mainsail and began to climb.

“Hold on, Nickerson!”

“I’m trying!” Thomas cried, but his fingers were slipping. “Help me please!” 

Mr. Chase rapidly climbed the rigging but he wasn’t fast enough, the young cabin boy dropped, but managed to grab a hold of one of the ropes. 

“That’s good! Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.”

But Thomas wanted to get down as soon as possible and he slowly tried to climb down the rope.

“I said stay where you are, Dammit!” Mr. Chase yelled at the top of his lungs but once again was too late. The young boy got his feet tangled between a few of the ropes and dropped like a rock towards the ground. The ropes went with him. 

Thankfully another rope caught him before he landed splat against the deck, but one of the ropes was completely torn. 

Mr. Chase growled as he landed on the wooden floor with a thud. Thomas stood on his two feet and yanked the ropes away from him. 

A few crew members were chuckling at him. “Lordy, boy. That was some show.” 

Mr. Chase stalked over and placed a big hand on each of Thomas’ arms.

“What the hell were you thinking!?” He shook him soundly. “You know better than to climb into the crows nest. And I told you to stay where you were, and you didn’t listen! That’s called disobeying a direct order, boy! Now look what you’ve done!”

Nickerson froze and looked into his first-mate eyes fearfully. He swallowed, his throat constricting, “I was dared to climb up there... I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean to break the rope. I’ll help fix it, I swear.”

“You wouldn’t have broken it if you would have listened to me.”

“Do you want the cane, sir?” Mr. Matthews asked and Mr. Lawrence slapped him against the back of the skull.

“What? The kid disobeyed an order. That’s an instant whipping if there ever was one.”

“Mr. Matthews is right. Go to my cabin and wait for me.” Owen Chase said as stern as a bull. 

The boy’s eyes widened as he thought about how much pain poor Grubs was in after taking three cuts to his upper back. Suddenly, Thomas was trembling from head to toe. 

But Mr. Chase was kind to him. He took him under his wing, and he shared his bread and crackers with Thomas. One night, He promised he wouldn’t hurt Thomas. Surly Mr. Chase wouldn’t beat him, right? Nickerson gave the first-mate a couple of slow, confused blinks. “Sir?” 

“NOW!” Mr. Chase roared and Thomas nearly jumped out of his skin. He heard several of the crew members mumbling something as he bolted downstairs. 

“He’s just a boy, sir.”

“He needs to learn to follow orders, Mr. Lawrence.”

“Aye sir, but he usually always obeys my orders.“

“ _Usually_ isn’t good enough.” Chase began unbuttoning his outer coat putting on a big show for his audience. He had to assert his authority and make a big deal out of everything or else the crew would start slacking. 

“We acquired the extra rope from below and are able to repair the damage with little difficultly. I don’t see any need to punish the lad.”

“That enough!” Chase bellowed. “I don’t want to hear another word, is that understood?”

The crew responded quickly and collectively with an “Aye sir.”

Satisfied with their response, Mr. Chase thudded below, and stormed into his chambers to grab a cane before returning to his previous position, outside of his cabin. 

Before entering his cabin, Owen Chase had to remind himself that he was doing this for the boy’s own good. He could have been killed today, and in the future, a life at sea requires orders to be followed at all times or else death is the most probable outcome. Trying not to think about how young the boy was, nor his inexperience with sailing, Mr. Chase rubbed his hand over the cane, and practiced a small whack on his own hand. Hissing at the pain, Chase shook out his hand. This would do quite well. 

With a resounding crash, the cabin door opened and Mr. Chase walked inside, immediately studying his frightened cabin boy who stood huddled in a corner. Thomas pulled his arms around his chest tighter, trying to disappear into the corner of the room. 

Chase had to steel his heart. It was a lot easier punishing the older crew members who often crowed and talked back, even some of the other boys would try to act brave, but Nickerson was the most painful to punish because he didn’t hide his fear. He was small and pitiful, huddled into a corner and it was enough to make Owen Chase feel like a monster. 

Still, he had a job to do. Even if he loathed this part of the job, he had to do it.

“How old are you, boy?” He asked, deciding to make a little small talk before getting to business. 

“F-Fourteen, s-sir.”

Mr. Chase sighed and sat on the edge of the bunk. “I cannot allow your actions this afternoon to go unpunished. You know that, Nickerson. What you did was foolish and dangerous. You’re lucky you weren’t injured.”

“What... what are you going to... do to me?”

Chase wasn’t really sure. Originally, he was thinking of caning the boy, but he was only fourteen and he was so timid. The cane was a thick, heavy instrument, meant to inflict the maximum sting to unprotected skin. Chase wasn’t prepared to torture the boy with that kind of pain. 

“I’m going to tan your hide,” he said in a quick revelation. 

“No! Mr. Chase, please, I won’t do it again.”

“Be thankful I’m not caning you in front of the crew. I have half the mind to.”

Immediately the child choked out something between a sob and a whimper and Owen Chase knew he needed to put an end to this torment now, because it was agonizing for both parties. He reached out and drew the boy close, dragging him over to a chair without arms. 

Thomas struggled a bit, but Mr. Chase easily overpowered him. “Trousers down.”

His stomach heaving, Thomas reached for the button on his thin, worn, trousers with shaky fingers. Once they were down, Mr. Chase flung the boy facedown over his left knee and removed the even thinner layer of underwear during the quick motion. 

Thomas kicked his legs, his face flaming with shame as he squirmed over Mr. Chase’s lap. He had never been spanked before, his grandmother wasn’t one for physical punishments and without his father around, Thomas had evaded all spankings that most other boys in his town could not. 

Mr. Chase pinned Thomas’ legs between his own, stopping them from kicking. Still, Nickerson was thrashing around with his arms, hammering fists into the side of Mr. Chase’s left thigh. 

“Settle down, Mr. Nickerson. You damn well earned this.” Chase hissed, clearly affected by the pounding of his own thigh. 

“I’m sorry. It was a mistake and I won’t do it again. You don’t have to do this.” 

“You are aware of how discipline works on a ship, correct?”

“Yes sir, but -“

“Then I see no need for further discussion. You disobeyed an order from your superior. I’m second in command from the Captain and if you disobeyed the Captain you’d be shark-bait so I suggest you be quiet and take this as the blessing it is. Any other man would be flogged.”

A second later and a calloused hand came crashing down on Thomas’ tender skin. The boy jumped, making a startled gasp. Chase raised his hand again, very high, and brought it down even harder.

“Ouch!” 

For a few moments the only sound was that of a hand meeting the kid’s backside. Nickerson squirmed as the smacks landed again and again, bucking and jolting to get away. But he was held firmly in place. 

“Ow! Ow! Ow!”

Thomas flung both his hands back to cover his bottom.

“Stop! It hurts.”

Unamused, Mr. Chase tilted his left knee a bit higher and swatted the brat’s thighs. 

Thomas squealed with pain.

“Take your hands away or I’ll keep spanking your legs,” Chase punctured his statement with an extra strong swat to the boy’s meaty thigh. 

Nickerson yanked his hands away, but renewed his efforts to wiggle free. Finding no escape, and Mr. Chase walloping his bottom again, Thomas felt panic rise in his chest. It stung badly, worse than he would have thought. The first-mate wasn’t holding back any of his strength and Thomas was sure his butt would be bruised at this rate. 

He whimpered when Mr. Chase brought his hand down twice in one spot and stuffed his fist in his mouth to bite onto something.

“Following your officers orders is a necessity for life at sea.” Mr. Chase lifted his knee again to aim his spanks at the soft undercurve where he knew it would hurt the most. 

In a desperate attempt to get away, Thomas sunk his teeth into Mr. Chase’s leg. The man grimaced with pain, but did not drop the boy much to his distain. 

Raising his hand as high as it would go, Mr. Chase brought it down as hard as he could and Nickerson lurched forward from the impact.

“O-Ow!” He howled, “Mr. Chase!”

“Do that again, and I won’t stop spanking you until morning,” the second-in-command threatened. 

“No! Please!” Nickerson wailed, clenching his fists. “M’sorry!” He collapsed, crying miserably in defeat. “M’sorrrrrry.”

He didn’t bite again, nor did he struggle. The boy continued to cry, a low noise broken by sniffs and ows. He was officially resigning to the punishment, too exhausted to fight it. 

“Don’t you ever,” Smack! “Do anything like that,” Smack! “Ever again.” Smack! “You have to be trained in the craft of sailing.” Smack! “You’re still learning,” Smack. “And you could have been killed” Smack! “If you ever,” Smack! “Disobey me again,” Smack! “I won’t hesitate,” Smack! “To punish you like the rest of the crew.” Smack! “Which means a ceremony and a cane. Do you understand me?”

“YES!” Thomas screamed. He really did understand but even if he didn’t he would have said anything to make Mr. Chase stop hitting him.

It felt like someone doused his butt in oil and set it aflame. 

“Please, Mr. Chase. Please no more. Owww! I’ll be good. I promise, just please, please let me up.”

Mr. Chase ignored his pleas as well as his tears, as he went about evening the shade of red he painted so nicely on the bottom in front of him. 

The tortured butt now glowed a fiery red from the top of the rounded buttock to the middle of his thighs. 

Mr. Chase sighed wearily, finally letting up on the spanks when he realizing the boy was clutching his ankle and laying limply over his knee. He paused and waited to see if the boy would move. He didn’t. For a while, Owen Chase sat in the chair and massaged his sore hand while the cabin boy continue to cry over his lap for a few moments. 

He knew he was done dishing out the discipline, but Mr. Chase now found himself in a difficult position of not knowing what to do next. Normally, any other crew member would straighten themselves up and thank Chase for correcting their behavior and hobble down to the medic. 

But Nickerson wasn’t punished like the other crew members. He had no open wounds that needed tending by a medic, and yet he was crying more than any other crew member ever had. He was simply a spanked child, not a flogged sailor. So what was the protocol? Should Owen comfort him like one would with a child? Or should he leave send him to the medic?

Nickerson still made no attempt to get up now that it was over. He was using his left hand to wipe his tears, but the other hand was still tightly wrapped around Chase’s ankle. 

“It’s over now, boy.” Mr. Chase said while clearing his throat. “Time to get up.”

He pulled the worn trousers over the abused backside, and gently maneuvered him into a standing position. The boy could not look more pitiful. His face was red about the cheeks and tear-streaked. His bottom lip trembled as he reached both hands behind him to rub the sting out. 

“Um,” Chase blinked unsure of what to say next. “You are relieved of your duties for the rest of the day. If you wish to go to the medic you can, although I didn’t cut you so it won’t do much good. I suppose he may have some advice though. Maybe a cool bath?”

Thomas continued crying, and to Owen’s complete shock, the boy buried his face into his shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, longing for comfort, even from the man who brought him such pain.

If it were anyone else, Mr. Chase would thrust them backwards and order them to stop crying. But with Nickerson, he found himself drawing the boy in close and stroking his hair. 

“Greenhorn,” he whispered softly, “It will go away quickly. You needn’t carry on like this.”

Thomas’ only response was to hug him tighter and cry out his fear and pain into Mr. Chase’s arms. This man was the only person Thomas had to a real father and somehow they both knew it.

“Hush, boy. You’re fine. You’ll see in a few minutes. I promise I didn’t give you anything lasting to cry about.”

He made to stand up, but Thomas refused to let go, clinging to Mr. Chase as tightly as he clung to the rope. 

So Chase carried him over to the bed, drew back the covers and gently dropped him on it. Nickerson laid his head on one of the softest pillows he’s ever felt and made no complaint as Mr. Chase tucked the blanket around him. He squirmed a little, under the covers, feeling the sting linger as he pressed against the mattress. A few last tears trickled down Thomas’ face making him look absolutely pitiful. Mr. Chase was sure the look on his cabin boy’s face would cause every motherly woman’s heart to bleed. 

“Rest for a bit.” He whispered, running his sore hand through the boy’s sweaty bangs. He fluffed one of the pillows before Thomas laid his head down. “When you wake up you can have some food and hot tea.” Mr. Chase spoke gently while walking towards the door. He needed to get back on deck and guide his men.

Thomas made no protest, his eyes slid shut and he began to breathe softly. Life on sea was rough, and Thomas rarely had the chance to acquire the proper amount of sleep. So at least now, he had a chance to catch up. 


	2. Whodunnit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I promise I’m not lying.” Thomas said, eyes welling with tears as he glanced towards Mr. Chase for help. “I would never do something like this.”
> 
> “Are you saying someone else did this?” He asked. 
> 
> “I don’t know. I guess.”

Thomas Nickerson placed his hand around his stomach to stop the growling noises that were gurgling before lowering his head back to the Captain’s shoes he was polishing. 

After being punished last week, Thomas wanted to avoid a repeat situation, so he was making sure to shine the shoes extra well. 

When he awoke last Saturday, in Mr. Chase’s bed, it was completely dark. Thomas remembered sitting up with a jolt, and just like Mr. Chase said, he felt no pain. It wasn’t until he climbed on deck and was smothered with sympathetic glances that he remembered what had happened. 

He saw Mr. Chase occasionally after that, but neither had said a word to one another. In fact, it almost seemed like Mr. Chase was avoiding him. That was fine with Thomas. He was quite embarrassed from the whole ordeal and if Mr. Chase didn’t want to talk to him, then so be it. 

His friend, Grubbs had apologized a million times for leaving him alone on deck with Henry Coffin. But Thomas assured his friend that it wasn’t his fault. 

They both were careful to avoid Coffin as much as they could. That boy was always up to no good. 

Since then, Thomas had resumed his duties of endless mopping and scrubbing. Anything that needed to be done to keep the Essex in good order. It was a Cabin Boy’s job after all. 

Thomas didn’t mind the work, most of it was up on deck, and as the days went by, Thomas’s golden skin began to glow healthy. 

The rest of the crew treated him as normal as he felt. No one gave him special treatment, but no one made-fun of him either. He was back to the regular jesting at meal times and following commands while on deck. 

The cabin door opened, and Thomas looked up from his task of shining the captain’s boots. 

Captain Pollard stopped so suddenly that Mr. Joy and Mr. Chase, who had been in deep conversation, slammed into his back. 

Thomas blinked at the officers, his eyes glazed. “Good evening, sir. Will you be dining in your Cabin tonight sir?”

“Yes.” Captain Pollard frowned and seated himself behind his desk. “Have you already eaten, Nickerson?” 

Thomas shrugged his shoulders as he looked down at the boots he had been attending. The truth of it was that he had gone to the gallery earlier but Coffin had been there, and he started in on Thomas the second he got walked through the door. He apologized but asked him to play chicken again. When Thomas refused, Coffin started teasing him. The jokes began to turn into threats that Thomas should spend time with him or else he’ll tell the Captain. Thomas thought it was rather childish of Coffin, and that’s coming from the youngest member of the crew. 

“I’m not really hungry, sir.” 

“I don’t want you missing meals, boy. My crew is to be well fed and healthy, that way you can do your job well. Slaying Whales is a lot of physical demand. Hell, just sailing takes a lot of physical strength.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Thomas refused to look at the Captain, and instead opted to appear consumed with his polishing. He felt mildly intimidated being surrounded by all three commanding officers. 

“Put those boots away, Thomas. You’ve nearly rubbed the very color from the leather. Go to the galley and get a tray.”

Thomas obeyed because it was an order. But he appreciated the kind tone the Captain used when giving it, as well as the use of this first name. Maybe the more he behaved the more the commanding officers were going to soften up to him. 

Thomas hurried to the galley and got a tray, despite it being late in the evening and the cook being irritated with him for waiting. 

“Thomas!” A hand belonging to none other than Grubbs was waving back and forth from a table across the room. Thomas went over to sit beside him. 

“Hey! What’s all this?” He motioned to the upside down cards that were spread across the table. 

“We’re playing a matching game. Mr. Matthews is really good. He’s won three times in a row.”

Thomas smiled and began to quickly eat his meal. “Can I try?”

“Sure thing, kid.” Mr. Matthews said, taking a sip of rum. This was most of the crew’s recreation time. Loud music was often played, as well as a few card games. It was the most fun they ever had when aboard the ship. Most of the time they had to work, and even now, some members of the crew were on deck working, but for the most part everyone was below having a good time.

The first card Thomas flipped over was a Queen of diamonds, and the second card was a five of hearts. 

“Tough luck, kid.”

“Hey, I’m just getting started.” Thomas laughed and Grubbs flipped over his five of hearts and then flipped another five of hearts over. 

“Match!” He shouted, tilting his head back and letting the smooth alcohol slid down. “See, you’re my good luck charm.” Grubbs said, shaking Thomas’s shoulder.

“NICKERSON!” A loud voice boomed like a burst of thunder. 

Frowning, the boy stood from his seat on the bench. “Yes sir?”

“The captain wants to see you, and he does not seem happy.” Mr. Lawrence told him.

“What’d I do?” 

“Don’t know. But you better go to his cabin right now.”

Thomas frowned and looked at the other crew members. They seemed just as confused. There was no reason for Captain Pollard to be angry. 

A few of his friends and other crew members got up to follow Thomas, but Mr. Lawrence stood in the gallery entrance and held his arm out, keeping them away. 

Mr. Chase and Captain Pollard were standing in the cabin, looking at something with a frown plastered to their faces. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” 

“There you are! What is the meaning of this, Nickerson?”

“W-What are you talking about, sir?”

Captain Pollard grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and moved him over to the place where he and Mr. Chase were standing. Below, the floor was covered in tar and chunks of cheese from supper. What was worse, was one the Captain’s log books was under the mess. 

“I - I don’t know how that got there.” Thomas felt absolute panic as he looked between the two angry men. 

“You we’re the last one in here. You were cleaning the floor, yes?”

“No! Well, yes sir, I did clean the floor, but I swear to you, that wasn’t there before.”

“Don’t lie to me boy!” Captain Pollard shouted. “You were the last one in here!”

“I promise I’m not lying.” Thomas said, eyes welling with tears as he glanced towards Mr. Chase for help. “I would never do something like this.”

“Are you saying someone else did this?” He asked. 

“I don’t know. I guess. I just know that I cleaned the floor like I was supposed to and then I went down to the galley for a quick meal and I came back to polish your shoes.”

“You told us you didn’t eat supper yet.” Mr. Chase crossed his arms. 

“I - I didn’t! I went down to the galley for food, but then I changed my mind and didn’t eat any food. So that’s why I came back here. Please, sir. You have to believe me.” 

Captain pollard shook his head. “I’ve had enough of this. It’s one thing not to finish your job, but another to mock me by tarring my paperwork! You are so very lucky this document was old and saved from my previous voyage. Therefore, it is unimportant. But I doubt you knew that. What’s the matter? Do you not like me? Do you wish to sabotage me?”

“No sir!”

“Have I not treated you well?”

“You have, sir! I appreciate how you have treated me, very much.”

“Obviously you don’t.” Captain Pollard said, grabbing Thomas by the upper arm. “Perhaps this was just a fun little game to you? To see if you would get caught?”

The Captain dragging him towards his table. “But no matter. I know exactly how to deal with liars and troublemakers. Mr. Chase, grab the cane.”

The rest of the crew was waiting outside the door, listening the moment they heard shouting from the Captain’s quarters. As soon as they saw what was happening, when Mr. Chase went for the cane, they felt a pang of sympathy run through them. Nickerson was the youngest out of all of them, and most men felt obliged to protect him, if not, at least they felt compelled to teach him the ropes. And since he was such a greenhorn, he got away with a lot of things due to pure ignorance and innocence. So to see him in trouble with the Captain was startling. 

“Please sir! I didn’t do it.” Thomas cried as he was being pulled in front of his desk. 

“What are you ladies lookin at?” Mr. Chase shouted at the remainder of the crew. “Get on deck and start rigging.”

“Aye sir!” The men yelled, frantic to obey when one boy was clearly in for it. They didn’t want to test anyone’s patience.

When Mr. Chase re-entered the Captains chamber, he found young Nickerson shaking like a leaf in front of Pollards desk.

“Do as you are told!” Captain Pollard roared.

“Please sir, I beg you. If you could just let me clean it now -“

“Too late, Mr. Nickerson,” he screeched. “You had a job to do, and you did not do it. You are here to work, and work you will, or else you will pay the consequences. Now bare your impudent backside and bend across my desk. I intend to show the crew what a well-whipped boy looks like.” 

His stomach heaving, Thomas reached for the button on his thin, worn, trousers with shaky fingers. He watched Captain Pollard take the dreaded cane from Mr. Chase. It was a thick, heavy instrument, meant to inflict the maximum sting to unprotected skin. Thomas could cry remembering how much pain Grubs was in the night he took three to his back and shoulders. 

Removing his trousers, Thomas stretched across the desk, his face flaming with shame. He grabbed the edges and held on tightly. 

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll finish every chore I give you without a word of complaint or thought of pulling one of those childish pranks you just pulled. Feet further apart, boy.”

Nickerson swallowed hard. This was going to be very bad. The Captain was out to set an example. He wondered briefly if Mr. Chase was still in the room or if he had dropped off the dreaded instrument and then returned on deck. If he was still in the room, part of Thomas hoped he had developed a close enough relationship with the man that he would put an end to the undeserving punishment should it get too far.

The cane whistled in the air behind Thomas as he clenched his muscles in anticipation. The flexible cane continued to whistle but no blow fell on his vulnerable backside. He relaxed. 

Without warning a streak of pure fire was painted across his bottom. Nickerson, who had planned to take his punishment silently, found himself screaming out his distress for all to hear. He shot right up off the desk and took several steps back until his feet tripped over the trousers around his ankles. His long shirt was protecting his modesty, but that was the farthest thing from Nickerson’s mind as he stumbled into Mr. Chase’s grasp. 

“Bring him back over the desk, and hold his hands down.”

“Aye sir,” Mr. Chase said, dragging Thomas back over the desk. He walked around to the other side and clamped down on the boys hand. 

Captain Pollard paused for a moment as Nickerson laid squirming across the desk, the scarlet welt on his butt throbbing in tune to the beat of his heart. 

“Please... please no more.”

A fat tear rolled down his cheek and he desperately wanted his punishment to end with just one strike. 

But he was not so lucky. All Thomas was aware of was the sound of the cane cutting air behind him and his own agonizing flesh waiting for the next lick to fall. 

“Owwwww!”

Captain Pollard took his time with the tanning, making sure the young boy felt each one for a good few minutes before bringing down the next one.

The fourth stroke elicited a scream of agony from Nickerson, and a few members of the crew from behind the door started murmuring. 

Again, the heavy cane descended upon it’s helpless target. Nickerson squirmed in anguish over the desk, pulling madly at his restrained hands, desperate to protect his bare, burning bottom from the relentless stick. 

After a good six strokes, Thomas had been reduced to crying hysterically, his bottom nothing more than a mass of red, raised welts.

“That’s enough of that.” Mr. Chase’s voice cut through Thomas’s cries. 

“I’ll be the judge of when he has been punished enough.”

The cane swung back, and Thomas tensed visibly, but no pain came. He looked over his shoulder to see Mr. Chase grabbing the captain’s arm. 

“You forget, he’s only fourteen, sir. That’s far too young for a full dozen.”

The Captain’s angry eyes fell to the dazed boy who now lay all but unmoving across the desk. 

“How you learned your lesson, boy?”

“Yes sir.” Nickerson mumbled dejectedly. 

“Very well. Up you get, then.” 

Thomas rose without looking at his chastiser and snuffled miserably into his sleeve. 

His bottom was so hot he was sure it was smoldering. 

“All right, pull up your pants and come with me. You’re going to spend the rest of the day on deck.” Pollard said. Mr. Chase turned towards a painting that was nailed onto the wall, as if he were still ignoring Thomas despite just saving him. 

Not anxious to face the crew, who could have little doubt about what just happened, Thomas reluctantly followed Captain Pollard up the gallery stairs. The captain escorted Nickerson over to the wooden bucket of water and scrub brushes. 

He looked into the pair of sad brown eyes and sighed. “I want this deck spotless, is that understood?”

“Yes sir.” Nickerson whispered, already dropping to his knees to start scrubbing. 

“Good lad.” Pollard walked away, towards the helm to attend to his duties while Thomas obediently scrubbed the deck. His hands rubbed angrily at the incessant tears streaming down his face. 

“You alright, Cabin boy?” Mr. Lawrence asked as he walked past. 

“Leave me alone.” Thomas mumbled tears dribbling on the the deck. 

“Hey kid. It’s alright.”

“I didn’t do nothin’” Nickerson whimpered. 

Mr. Lawrence frowned. “Someone really set you up, huh?”

Nickerson swallowed hard, trying not to completely break down as he harshly scrubbed at the deck. 

Taking pity on the kid, Mr. Lawrence told him he would look into it. 

Throughout the remainder of the evening, Nickerson was growing hot and sweaty from the workout, but many crew members brought him water, and little tiny snacks to nibble on while he worked. 

Thomas, lost in his own world of exhaustion and pain, yelped as a big wave knocked the ship around, causing him to fall hard on his backside. 

Nickerson berated himself as he felt his eyes again fill with hot tears. He was too old to be crying like a baby over a sorely punished bottom. 

His best friend Grubs sat next to him on deck and rubbed one hand in slow soothing circles between Nickerson’s shoulder blades. “It’s alright to cry, Thomas. I won’t think less of you for it. In fact, no one will.”

“It just hurts and I didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

“Bastards. I’ll find out who did this, Thomas. I promise. But for now, just try and focus on something other than the pain, okay?”

“Okay.” Nickerson agreed, trying desperately to focus on something else. It did help that he had a task at hand. He had to remove the tar from the Captain’s chambers. 

He put all of his energy into removing it, and thankfully it did distract him from the pain for a while. 

At last, when Thomas was finished with the removing for the tar, he went back to his cot to go to sleep. 

He tried to lift himself into the cot, but his backside protested and he let out a whimper. Mr. Peterson was quick to come to his aid.

“Here, let me help you.” He said, giving Thomas’s a boost with his hands. Grateful, Thomas stepped into the pair of hands and was able to lay down in his cot. 

“Thank you, Peterson.”

“Ah don’t mention it.” He smiled. But just as he was settling into bed, Henry Coffin walked past with a smirk playing off his lips.

“Aw What’s the matter, cabin boy? Too sore to sit?” A few jeers and taunts like that came from some of the older members of the crew that had to babysit Thomas during the earlier stages of the voyage. They were slightly irritated with his constant babbling and happy to see him finally put in his place for a bit. 

Thomas knew he could sometimes talk a little too much, but to hear teasing from some of the other members of the crew stung worse than the cane itself. He wiped at his eyes again. 

“Kid used to be able to get away with anything, and I had to take all the beatings he should have been getting.” Johnson whispered to Coffin. 

“Don’t worry about them, Thomas. It’s no big deal if you can’t climb into your own cot. You’re legs are probably all welted. No shame in that.” Grubs said. But Thomas was already pressing his face into his pillow, shoulders shaking. 

“Aw is the baby gonna cry?” Coffin laughed. 

“Shut up, assholes!” Carter yelled, throwing his pillow across the room. 

“You’re lucky the Captain ain’t here to see that, boy, or you would be next.” One of the older crew members warned. Carter, who was just two years older than Thomas, rolled his eyes. 

After a that, a moment of silence filled the room with the exception of some low muffled sniffles. 

“Would you look at that, he really is crying.” Coffin said but this time the crew wasn’t laughing along with him. “Shh, don’t worry little cabin boy, we’ll drop you off at the next port and find you a new mommy -“

“Go to hell,” Thomas hissed, sitting up in his cot, despite his bottom protesting. “I don’t know what your problem is with me but I suggest you don’t pull another stunt like that again, or next time, I’ll tell the captain it was you.” 

The crew let out a chorus of “ews” and “ahs” at the boldness of Thomas’s statement. 

“Did he just accuse Coffin for making the mess?”

“Aye, I believe he did.”

Henry Coffin walked even closer to Thomas’s bed, and got in his face. “You best watch your mouth, little cabin boy,” He sneered, “Or I’ll arrange for you to spend another day over a desk, or maybe a nice barrel on deck with your red ass to the sky. The Captain trusts me. And if I tell him you did anything, anything at all, he won’t hesitate to cane you again.”

The room was absolutely dead silent. Side-eyed glances were being exchanged but no one dared say a thing.

Finally, Thomas got enough nerve to mutter, “Trust takes a long time to earn and only a minute to destroy.”

“Hello ladies.” The crew jumped to their feet as Mr. Chase entered the room. “We are to prepare for bad weather in less than twenty minutes...” Chase was looking around the room. 

“Greenhorn?” He asked. 

Nickerson was settled in his cot, face down, with a frown etched on his face. 

“We stand at attention when an officer walks in.” Chase reminded him gently. 

Truth be told, Chase was worried about him. The boy was flushed, and he seemed to still be very affected from his earlier punishment. 

Owen Chase debated what to do next with the child. He knew he probably needed rest. But at the same time he wanted to talk to him. 

“Peterson.”

“Aye sir.”

“I want you on deck to prepare for bad weather.”

“Aye sir.”

“Mr. Ray.”

Grubbs looked up from his gaze at the floor. “Yes sir?”

“You too, go on deck.”

“Nickerson. A word in my cabin.”

The boy sniffled but stayed in bed. 

“Mr. Chase, sir?”

“How are you feeling, greenhorn?”

The boy looked sadly at his blanket. “Okay.”

Chase sighed, and pulled out a flask of rum, he put it toward’s Nickerson’s mouth and encouraged a few sips. 

“It always helps take the edge off of everything.” Chase joked. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“What’s wrong, boy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Nothing sir.” Thomas whispered, wiping at his eyes again. 

“Come ‘ere. We’re going to my cabin.” Mr. Chase said gruffly, “Let’s go.”

He gently guided Thomas out of the room. The boy’s dirty, bare feet shuffled and slipped over the wooden floor as he struggled to keep up with Mr. Chase’s pace. At last, when they were alone in the first-mate’s chambers, Thomas was quietly crying into his arm making pathetic little sounds of distress. 

“Thomas, it’s over. You can calm down, now. The Captain is done punishing you.”

“I didn’t do nothing wrong.” Thomas muttered, finally saying what he wanted to say all along. 

“You feel like you were treated unfairly?” Chase clarified, “Because it was just a prank?”

“No! I was good! I did my chores like I was supposed to, and I never touched the Captain’s documents, but no one believed me.”

As the boy continued to cry softly into his sleeve, Chase walked over to his stone pitcher and poured water into a bowl. He reached over for a folded cloth and wet it. 

“I believe you because I trust you, and if you say you didn’t do it, then I believe you. But I hope you know, without proof, there was no way I could have stopped you from being punished. I’m sorry. I wish I could have done more but at least I stopped him from dishing you the full dozen.”

“I just wish I would feel better.” Nickerson sniffled sadly. 

“You will, boy. You will.”

Thomas shook his head, “No, it’s not like before, it’s worse.”

Mr. Chase had to keep himself from snorting, “Yeah, because you were caned. It’s a little different, Greenhorn. But it doesn’t mean you’ll never feel better again. It just takes a little longer.”

He placed the cool wet rag on Thomas’s forehead.

“You’re running a slight fever.”

Chase couldn’t hide the concern from his voice, “Do you want to see the medic? He could give you some ointment for your skin. It might be what you need for a good nights sleep.”

Nickerson shook his head. “Don’t want to be a baby about it.” 

“Nonsense boy.” Mr. Chase laughed. “Everyone goes to the medic after a whipping, even me.”

Thomas’s eyes lit up, and his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. “You’ve been whipped before?”

“I’ve said too much.” Mr. Chase mumbled, moving the rag away from the boy’s forehead. “But of course I have. Every captain and first-mate has to start somewhere. I was a cabin boy for three years, then I was a midshipman before I became second-mate. As the saying goes, I worked my way through the ranks and pulled myself up by my bootstraps.”

“You were like me once?”

“Nickerson, I was exactly like you. Young, inexperienced, excited, strong, dedicated to learn, and most importantly, I was loyal.”

Thomas felt a blush creep up his neck, and he smiled at the floor.

“I think you know who framed you, but you don’t want to tell.”

Thomas didn’t say anything, which was more than enough proof for Owen Chase, but he didn’t push the child to tell.

“Loyalty is a great quality. But I want you to know, if someone is treating you badly, you can tell me, okay Thomas? I think we have enough trust established between the two of us.”

Thomas nodded. “I do trust you, Mr. Chase, but I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do.”

“What do you mean?” Chase asked, putting his hand to the boy’s forehead. “Greenhorn, I need to make sure you’re not cut.”

“W-What?”

Mr. Chase walked into another room connected to his bedroom. 

“Get over here.” 

“What are you going to do?” Thomas asked, walking timidly towards the room.

“I’m going to give you a bath.” 

Thomas glanced at the huge iron tub and then back at Mr. Chase. 

“Come on, I don’t have all night. I mean, I do, but I would like to get to bed.”

“Sir?”

“You can get one yourself, but I want to check to make sure you’re not cut.”

Thomas moved towards the tub and stepped out of his trousers, his duck white underwear was stained red. Owen cursed silently, and gently ran some salt water over the wound. 

“Ow!” He screamed, fresh tears springing to his eyes. 

“Sorry, greenhorn. I know, I know. But I have to clean it. You’re getting a fever from this, and I need to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Hurts!”

“Shh, almost done.” He finished wiping the salt water over the small cut and then gently wrapped the boy in a towel and peeled the rest of his clothing off. 

“You know, you really should eat more. You are a skinny little thing.”

Thomas chuckled a wet laugh. “I didn’t want to eat with Coffin tonight.”

Mr. Chase hummed as he dumped a few of the warm buckets into the tub. “I see, so is this Mr. Coffin the person who has been framing you.”

Thomas bit his lip. “I think maybe, sir. But please, don’t tell the captain. He loves his cousin and wouldn’t believe us if we said he was behind it.”

“I won’t tell Mr. Pollard. But I will be keeping an eye of Mr. Coffin.”

Throwing one leg over the high edge, Thomas sunk into the steaming bath. “Ahh! Ouch.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes sir. Just.. water hurts the cuts a little.”

Mr. Chase grabbed a wash rag and scooped a glob of soap.

“You splash me, and I’ll drown you.” Chase warned, but Thomas was beginning to learn the difference between Mr. Chase’s real threats, verses his playful threats. 

He lathered up the rag and got to work. Thomas sat still for the most part, but protested when Mr. Chase scrubbed too hard on his arms. 

“You’re all dirty.”

“That’s what happens when you clean dirt all day long.” 

“I think you’re getting a little cheeky.” Chase said, and grabbed a brown bucket. 

“Oh no. Mr. Chase, wait!”

But Chase dumped the whole bucket over Thomas’s head laughing as the boy spluttered and tried to wipe the water out of his eyes. “That was just cruel,” Thomas said, but he was smiling too. 

As he sat in the tub, Mr. Chase added some strange looking plant things, which he said were herbs, and he promised it would help heal his wounds. 

When the water had turned grey, Mr. Chase pulled the plug that was wedged into the hole at the end of the tub and the water drained back out into the sea. 

Thomas was surprised that the tub had emptied so quickly but didn’t say anything. When Thomas shivered, Mr. Chase wrapped a new fluffy warm towel around him and took away the wet soaked one that the boy took with him into the tub. 

As Chase dried him off, he patched up the cut with a little piece of thread and a needle. Thomas whined, and whimpered, but he managed to stay still and hold his resolve. Once Chase was done with that, he used another towel to dry the boy’s hair. 

Satisfied that his hair was dry enough, Mr. Chase guided the boy back towards the bed and handed him his nightshirt back. 

Thomas put the long shirt back on, and went to grab his white underwear but Mr. Chase grabbed his wrist. 

“Sorry kid. You’re going to have to get another pair, this one needs washed. You’re night trousers will work.”

Thomas put the trousers back on, and wrapped his arms around Mr. Chase’s torso. “Thank you for believing me, sir.”

Mr. Chase patted his head. “Don’t you worry about it, Greenhorn. That Henry Coffin is a smug little thing. I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

“He -“ Thomas’s eyes started to well-up again. “He said he’ll tell Captain Pollard to - to do _that_ again.”

“He threatened to make Mr. Pollard cane you?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. Thank you for telling me that, and don’t worry. Like I said, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”

“But - but don’t tell Captain Pollard, please Mr. Chase!”

“Shh, I won’t. Just get some rest now. Go on.”

Thomas nodded and hugged him one last time before leaving the room. 

Mr. Chase stood up, and walked into the crew’s chambers where most men were sleeping. He saw Thomas climb back into his cot, this time about to do it himself without any pain. The stitches probably pulled and stung him a little but other than that, he was good. 

Walking over to another cot, Chase bent down and shook Henry Coffin’s shoulder.

“I need to have a word with you in my Cabin.”

“Sir?”

“Right now. Let’s go.” 

Thomas knew instantly that Mr. Chase was going to try and scare Henry Coffin into promising to leave him alone. He just hoped it would work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :) This was just a little something I came up with. I don’t know, I just got these vibes from the movie and I’ve had the muse to write something like this ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


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